Personal Superman
by Superactiveuberfreak
Summary: [Oneshot] PreAC,Slight VinTi,Onesided. At first she thought ‘Cloud will realize he loves me He’ll find out he doesn’t love Aeris'...But now she knew. He doesn’t love her, He loves Aeris, and he always will.


**I felt kindof like drama-ish, emo-ish, depressedness today. It comes with the summer for me. So I tapped into my mind and made something up on spot. Crappy as it may be, I haven't submitted for a while, and I thought I'd be a nice change. Pft...nice...**

**I personally love killing off characters! Any other takers? Or am I alone on this venture of constant deaths of Cloudie-kun? **

**I haven't really read through it yet, so point out any mistakes and I'll correct them if possible. And if this doesn't make sense, blame my poor, tired, caffeen deprived mind. **

**DISCLAIMER: This _is _called right? **

_"She's dead, Cloud. It wasn't your fault, so please, please Cloud, please for-"_

_"Forget?"_

_"…Cloud… Forgive yourself…" _

_"…"_

_"Cloud!" _

_"Some people shouldn't be forgiven…" _

His eyes were darker than usual, she noticed, as she sat at the table sipping her green tea. Maybe it was her fault, maybe it wasn't. You could never tell with him. Whether of not he was going to talk, whether or not her was going to snap or yell or just gaze off into the darkness.

He was such a mystery, that Strife was. Tifa almost laughed at the thought. Cloud Strife; A mystery.

But he was, in a sense. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything, about Aeris. Maybe she should have just let Him brood and convince Himself it was his fault. That way, there wouldn't be any awkward silences. Any mistrusting stares.

And yet, she didn't regret it. She didn't regret it, because she didn't care. Nope, Tifa Lockheart didn't give a fuck for once. And as she sat there, cradling the empty mug that had been tossed one time to many, she could finally find meaning to the term 'Fuck it'.

And as He busied Himself in the kitchen, making Himself whatever the hell he wanted, she _could_ find meaning to the term 'Fuck it'.

And as she 'accidentally' cut herself while cooking, she could still find the meaning to the term 'Fuck it'.

She gazed up at Him foggily, and He avoided eye contact, 'reading' the newspaper. He mumbled something under His breath, something to with 'Aeris' and 'forgiveness'. The usual. Oh, how she wished she could hate Him.

But she couldn't, it was as simple as that. She could hate someone she's loved for so much. And what was killing her was that she hated herself so much. That she hated who she had become _so damn much. _

Ask Barret, he'd say she was pretty much the same. Ask Cid, He'd say he didn't notice a /$# change in her $# behavior. Ask Yuffie, she'd say she was the same Tifa as always. Ask Him, and He'd say 'Tifa is Tifa'. Ask Red, he'd say she was relatively the same. Vincent wouldn't say anything. Because no one gave a shit either, and no one really paid any attention to Tifa-Fucking-Lockheart. But she knew that she was just hiding it. She was just masking it all with 'normal' Tifa, because she refuses to look weak.

But by crying at night before she went to bed, by constantly feeling like shit, and by the strong urge to die, Tifa knew she was someone completely different.

At first, she had thought 'Cloud will realize he loves me; He'll find out he doesn't love Aeris, He'll do this, He'll do that, He will…' Then came the 'Maybe Cloud will realize he loves me; Maybe he'll find out he doesn't really love Aeris, Maybe, maybe, maybe…' But now, she knew. He doesn't love her, He loves Aeris, and he always will.

And she had broken down that night; when she finally realized he didn't love her. When she had told him she cared and he had walked a_way_. She had attempted to drown her sorrows in dark coloured liquor, she tried to take some cheap-ass-worthless-man home and make him feel her pain. But to her dismay, that cheap-ass-worthless-man had been Vincent. And that cheap-ass-worthless-man just wanted to tuck her into bed and give her a Grovel in the morning. And every time she tried to drink away her sadness, the bloody cheap-ass-worthless-man would show up and bring her home before she got carried away. She would try to drink herself into a stupor, I mean really try, but he just wouldn't allow it, and that was really starting to tick her off.

What did he do? Stalk her? Did he have a little chip on the back of her head that sent off a Vincent-Only-Ears beep when she had a certain amount of alcohol in her? Tifa subconsciously felt around the back of her head. She had learnt countless times before to never underestimate the man. But no, there was no chip, and she was left again to wonder about the man she had come to call her personal superman, who saved her when she didn't _want _him to.

She remembered when she asked him why he cared so much. She remembered the look in his eyes when he told her, the look of emptiness and concern. He told her, in exact words, 'I suppose it's because I've come to love you, Tifa.'

Then, it was he turn to be Him. Her turn to cower from affection. And cower she did. She apologized, but he told her not to waste her breath.

"_As long as you know, I am fine with how you feel." _

"_As long as I don't tell you I hate you, right?" _

"_As long as you don't tell me you hate me, and know, I am fine with however which way you chose to feel about me." _

She assumed Vincent was the only thing standing between her and death, and he was, quiet literally, putting up a hell of a fight. And yes, she had told him she may kill herself someday, and he has told her he wouldn't let her, and she had tried to believe him…

But tonight, tonight, she was serious. Tifa had contemplated doing this before, but never actually tried to. But sitting there, with Him reading yesterdays newspaper and acting like he did nothing wrong, she knew it so well. She knew so damn well that she wanted death, and that knife on the counter looked like a quick fix.

So when He left to do whatever the hell he felt like doing, Tifa grabbed the friendly looking knife, and sat down right in the middle of the bar. First thing for Him to see, when He finally decided to bring his scrawny ass home.

He hesitated at first, but the blade just seemed to glide across her wrist. She winced slightly as crimson tears poured from her incision, reminding her of a certain superman's eyes. The pain was numbing, and she found her hand pulling the knife over again, once more…

And again…

And again…

She coughed slightly, finding that it was hurting more now than she anticipated. She felt light headed, and in an instant had fallen off of the bar.

_Maybe I shouldn't have.. _but it was far to late for Tifa to reconsider. She found she couldn't move, and the numbness hit her entire body. She felt a familiar wetness on her cheeks, and a painful guilt in her throat. What about Marlene? And Denzel? They both still needed her, right? She shouldn't… Maybe she could…

No. She could even move her fingers anymore, and as hot guilt started to flood her mind with darkness, she heard the door open.

"Hello, Superman…"

**Submitting reviews will keep angry kittens from biting your toes off! (stolen and altered from kay.heartscry)**


End file.
